


all of me

by the_bisexual_disaster



Series: kat's classy fics (tm) [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Daenerys Targaryen- mentioned, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Past Murder, Sansa Stark- mentioned, dany doesnt go mad bc i said so, gendry is a sad and angsty boi, mentions of suicidal ideation, not betad or outlined whoops, this is pure angst sorry not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bisexual_disaster/pseuds/the_bisexual_disaster
Summary: The thought of her here— burned, crushed, dead— was too much and he doubled over to heave, but nothing came up. He never should have proposed that night. He never should have driven her away.in which gendry reflects on past decisions while bearing witness to the destruction of kings landing(written for gendrya month week 1: trapped)
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: kat's classy fics (tm) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815244
Comments: 20
Kudos: 100





	all of me

Gendry kept choking on the smoke and ash in the air as he stumbled down the streets of the city he once called home. It had barely been a year since he left with Ser Davos on this incredible new adventure fighting mythical creatures alongside the King in the North, his closest friend’s brother. Since then he had fought, he had loved, he had been given a lordship. Still, he couldn’t help imagining what could have happened had he stayed here. What would have happened if Davos never came to him? What if he wasn’t so eager to leave? He would be dead too. It was a thought he wasn’t all too opposed to.

But then, he’d have never found Arya again. He’d have died thinking she was long dead and she likely wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Not for the first time, he wondered what she would have done that night before the battle had he not been there. She likely would have gone to someone else for the experience; Podrick or some tanner’s apprentice, most like. 

The thought enraged him so much that he grasped the nearest piece of rubble and threw as hard as he could. It made him feel a little better and once his anger died down, he realized that he should not have done that here, of all places. He focused on the cause of the scene in front of him.

From what he heard, he gathered that the dragon, the big black one that Queen Daenerys preferred to ride, lost control on hearing the bells. It seemed an unlikely story, but given the shock everyone around him was in, he forgave it and accepted the story he was told as truth.

He was meant to stay at the camp as backup in case Jon needed it. He was no military expert like Jon, but he could swing a sword if need be. Davos told Gendry that he was too important at the moment to risk harming so as much as he hated it, he was kept outside the city as Drogon burned it to the ground.

Once he smelled the smoke and saw the rising flames, anxiety rose in his stomach and he nearly vomited. He tried to run into the city but was held back by unfamiliar men. 

Arya… she was in the city. He knew she was. Cersei Lannister was the last person on her list and she was hell bent on finishing it. At first he wondered if it would bring her some kind of peace once she crossed everyone off of that damned list that she always spoke under her breath as they fell asleep. Now, he wondered if she was even still alive.

The thought of her here— burned, crushed, dead— was too much and he doubled over to heave, but nothing came up. He never should have proposed that night. He never should have driven her away. The guilt he felt when he remembered her eyes, filled with love and pain, as she told him that it wasn’t her overwhelmed him and he stumbled over another piece of rubble. 

Only it didn’t feel like rubble at all.

Gendry looked down at what he had tripped over to find it was someone’s arm, which was still intact. It wasn’t burned like so many bodies he’d seen today. Something akin to hope burned in his chest and he began moving rubble off of the person trapped beneath

It was her. He knew it was. She still wore the same leathers she wore when they were in Winterfell and he would never forget her gloves after watching her pull them off before they fucked.

It didn’t take long before he revealed her face and upper body, but it felt like forever. Blood had ran in rivulets all over her face, but under that she was paler than the winter snows. Her eyes were closed and he couldn’t see her chest moving. 

His vision went blurry with tears and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. How was he supposed to tell Jon? How was he supposed to face Lady Sansa and tell her that her little sister was dead? How was he supposed to keep living his life with her not there? How could she have left him to die? He even preferred to never see her again as long as he knew she was still alive. He didn’t know how he could manage knowing she was dead.

He continued moving the rubble off of her body. He had to. He had to be sure she made it home. She deserves to be buried in the crypts of Winterfell with her father and her brother. It’s what she deserved.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he was stopped by a small cough and a pained wheeze of a breath. He looked up at her face and her eyes were open. She was alive, but barely.

His hands went to cradle her face. Her eyes were clouded with pain as she wheezed out what he thought to be his name.

“Hang on, Arya,” he said quietly, trying his best to reassure her. “I’ll get you out, just hang on.”

Once he moved the rubble off of her, he lifted her up, doing his best to ignore how she screamed in pain. Her right leg seemed to be broken and he’d also guess a good number of her ribs too. His heart clenched for the pain she was in as he ran as fast as he could towards his camp without jostling her too much. 

As he ran, he felt a pang of guilt in his heart. If he hadn’t proposed to her and scared her off, she wouldn’t be in this condition. They could still be in Winterfell, lying in her bed until the day is almost over or until someone came in to yell at them. He could trace the outline of her scars as she moaned his name into the night. They could have laughed at her siblings faces when they walked in on them naked in bed together.

Instead, he was carrying her broken body through the ruined streets of King’s Landing, trying to not think about the look in her eyes when he said she was beautiful and he loved her.

The closest thing they had to a maester was Samwell Tarly. Maester Wolkan was required to stay in Winterfell to aid Lady Sansa and he had yet to go to Storm’s End for the first time to meet the maester there. Sam had proved himself to be invaluable on their journey to King’s Landing and he proved himself again while he fixed Arya. At first, Gendry was banished outside of the tent but after mere minutes, Sam called him back in to hold her down. 

According to Sam, he had tried to give her Milk of the Poppy, but she had refused and begun to lash out at him. As Gendry entered the tent, he could see that she had yet to calm down. Her eyes were wild and she winced with every movement she made. She was trying to sit up, but she couldn’t. 

He practically ran to her side and gently pushed on her shoulders to get her to lie back down.

“We need you to be still, Arry,” he explained to her. She was fighting to stay awake.

“It’s going to hurt, my lady,” Sam piped in from behind Gendry. “I’d prefer if you didn’t feel any of this.”

“No,” Arya managed. “Don’t want… any.”

As soon as she finished trying to talk, she began coughing violently, curling up onto her side as best she could and wrapping her arms around her torso in an attempt to ease her pain. 

Gendry and Sam managed to roll her onto her back once her coughing fit subsided. Gendry held her still as Sam forced a dose of Milk of the Poppy down her throat. Gendry didn’t miss the look of utter betrayal in her eyes as she lost consciousness. 

It would be hours before she woke again. Gendry had managed to inform Jon of Arya’s whereabouts and her condition in that time, but other than that, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her bedside. He sat in a wooden chair, clutching her hand, the entire time while he waited for her to wake. When she did, she looked around in a daze before her eyes landed on him. She looked conflicted, to say the least, but didn’t try to pull her hand out of his. 

He brought his free hand to her head and began stroking her hair. 

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like I got crushed by a building,” she responded, her voice rough.

He grabbed a cup of water that had been left for her when she woke and helped her to sit up enough to take a sip. 

“Thank you.”

They fell into a rather awkward silence, neither of them knowing exactly what to say to each other.

“Thanks,” she repeated.

He chuckled. “You already said that.”

“I know,” she replied, “but I wanted to say it again for saving me. You didn’t have to do that.” 

She looked away after she finished speaking.

“Why do you say that?” he asked. What did she mean when she said he didn’t have to save her? 

Arya took a deep breath, wincing, and tried to explain.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t plan to survive this. I knew one way or another I would die if I went south and I was alright with that at first.”

She paused, and Gendry thought she was finished.

“Did something cha-“

“Will you let me finish?”

He nodded, signalling for her to go ahead.

“I was never planning on going back to Winterfell after this. I knew that either I would die in battle or I would be executed by Cersei’s followers for regicide.” The word was unfamiliar to Gendry and he made a mental note to ask her about it later. 

“However, something changed on my journey south. I realized that… I missed you. I missed Jon and Sansa and Bran but it was likely that I would never see you again and that was my own doing.” She paused, took a couple deep breaths, and continued.

“I’d already distanced myself from them. I didn’t want them to know me like I am now.”

“Like you are now?” he inquired.

She looked deep into his eyes.

“I’ve killed people, Gendry. Some in horrible ways and it made me forget what was truly important. When you proposed to me, it was a second chance. A chance to become something other than what I’d spent the past several years becoming, but I had to finish my list. I didn’t think anything else would bring me peace. Cersei’s dead now, and I still don’t feel at peace.”

He took a deep breath. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” she gulped, “that if you’d still like to marry me, I’ll be your wife.”

“I don’t want to force you to be someone you’re not.”

“I know you,” she smirked, “and you know me. I should have realized that you wouldn’t force me to be the kind of lady my mother tried to raise me to be. I just… panicked.”

He gripped her hand tighter and she squeezed in return.

“Well?”

“Of course,” he sighed, kissing her forehead. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Good,” she sighed and fell back asleep a moment later. 

Gendry sat back in his chair, his heart feeling lighter than it ever had.


End file.
